i see today with a newsprint fray

[perfectcameo]

Who: Logan, Njoki Rainmaker.
What: Logan plays errand medic in the destitute Mafaton.
Where: Mafaton.
When: Just after the healing of the sky. The healing of everything else will take a little longer.
Warnings: References to gore and injury. Undead medicalness.

The night is crawling to a close and the storm gashes in the sky are beginning to fade, a mark of optimism for the residence of Baedal. With the horizon beginning to tinge with light, the streets of Mafaton are clearing as nightwalkers are forced in doors. The young (seemingly so) man that Logan is escorting back to Njoki's place lapsed into unconsciousness about a block away after deliriously muttering in Spanish before his weight listed against Logan's arm, twisting to fall with a leg fishtailing out before he'd been caught by the front of his jacket. From there, he's been since bundled over a shoulder as carefully as Logan could, all things considered, and continued the pre-pre-dawn trek. No cigar smoke, just a fine steam expelled from his mouth in Doberman like exhales.

He hopes the guy isn't actually dead. It's really difficult to tell.

Logan is fine, of course. There's dried blood making a half-moon at the corner of his mouth, his nose having squirted some when punched in it for all that it never broke. All injuries healed to usual, without even a break for scarring in scraggly hair lined down his jaw. He's in leather, cotton, and denim, and doesn't seem particularly tired about the hour.

Once out front the right address, he gets out his CiD and dials a number, bringing it to his ear because he's just more used to things functioning as phones do. "Special delivery," he says, because he already texted Njoki ahead of time.